


My Chemical Romance

by henghost



Series: Amy Obsession [4]
Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 02:13:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henghost/pseuds/henghost
Summary: After helping a pubescent kid at the hospital, Amy starts to think about her own urges, and who her urges are for.





	My Chemical Romance

Amy walked through a privacy curtain, and even for her this sight was a little grotesque. He couldn’t be older than thirteen. Though the masculine pronoun was totally indefinite, i.e., the body was ripped up to the point where it was difficult to what gender it/he/she/they were. But it certainly wasn’t the worst she’d seen, and it didn’t look like powers were involved, which always made things harder, so she set to work-- there were other, more pressing patients to attend to, anyway.

She put her arm on a square patch of the arm that had a little less blood than the rest of it, and she saw his anatomy laid out before her like an atlas. The masculine pronoun turned out to be the correct assumption, or at least there were male genitals and lots and lots of testosterone, an overactive pituitary gland indicative of someone in the throes of puberty. Easy enough to fix. 

When the major stuff was done, she synthesized a little GABA to calm the kid down. The young ones were wont to freak out when they learned they’d been Panacea-ed. 

She turned to leave.

“You’re pretty,” she heard from behind her. “Like really, really pretty.”

She turned to look at the kid. “Sorry?”

The kid blushed a little. “You’re like-- and I actually really hate this word-- but you’re like  _ hot _ .”

She stood still, even though she should be getting to Suzanne Miller down the hall with stage IV cervical cancer. No one had said anything close to that nice to her before, at least not without adding their own vulgar flair. 

“Um, thank you,” she said. “But I really should be--”

“Wait, so you’re _ Panacea _ . It took me a second to recognize. Oh my god, does that mean you were, like… that you  _ saw _ me?”

“Uh, no. Or only in a very abstract sense.”

“Not that I wouldn’t be okay with that,” the kid said. A little too much GABA and he was Don Juan, apparently. 

“Wow, uh, I’m flattered, but I don’t really have time to flirt with you. Your, uh, development is totally on track, by the way. If you were worried.”

“Hey, cut me some slack. Don’t you know what it’s like to have, you know, urges? Or are you totally clinical all the time?”

She walked out of the curtained-off bed, guilty that she’d waited that long-- how many lives lost in those seconds?-- but the kid’s comment stuck with her while she dealt with Mrs. Miller and all throughout the rest of her rounds in the oncology ward. 

The truth was, she wasn’t immune to urges, even if she understood what caused them more than most. Neurotransmitter  _ x  _ plus hormone  _ y _ could make people crazy with lust. And she knew that at her age she was right in that sweet spot where these neurotransmitters and hormones were practically overflowing. 

It was a shame she couldn’t use her power on herself. It would be so useful to get rid of those urges. They could be distracting, and whose job was more important than hers? Plus, it’d get rid of a lot of family tension.

Because as much as she’d been genuinely flattered by the words of that nameless little boy, she didn’t swing that way. Nor was she a hundred percent sure she swung the other way, in fact. She was more like Babe Ruth in this analogy, pointing her bat in one exact location. At--

She shook her head. Dirty, filthy, disgusting. It wasn’t  _ lust  _ she felt for Victoria. No, absolutely not. That was wrong. It was just love. Familial love, sororal love. Romantic love was the worst it got.  She was her sister.  _ Not your real sister  _ came a voice in her head that didn’t feel like hers. She hit her forehead to try and shake this line of thinking loose. 

But that was unsuccessful. Because where’s the line? Amy knew how easily estrogen and oxytocin and testosterone could confound the rational mind. And with their whole family unit fucked up as it was, it seemed possible love could get confused with lust, at least on a biological level. 

And of course the worst part was that she could never tell anyone about these perverse, perverse thoughts. She was alone.

***

Amy got back to their home the same time Carol and Victoria did, which is to say it was very early in the morning. None of them were especially tired, though. Her mom and sister had apparently gotten a big break in their investigation of a local villain, and they were discussing their plan of action.

Amy watched them talk, desperately trying not to look down at Glory Girl’s little flash of thigh her short skirt revealed. Who’d made that costume choice?

She went upstairs to her room-- being down with those two wasn’t a tenable option. It’s not like she could sleep, though, despite how much she needed to. The words of that little preteen child rang through her skull like the clanging of a bell.  _ Or are you totally clinical all the time?  _ And thoughts of Victoria, too. God, she looked so good in that costume, even if it was bordering on indecent. 

She was taking off her own red and white costume when there was a knock at the door. Of course it was her. 

“Amy!” Victoria squealed. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. It’s just me.”

“You’re worse than a ghost.”

“Hey, I’m serious. You looked, I don’t know, panicked down there.”

“I’m not, I’m just tired. Long day at the hospital.”

“That’s gotta be the most cliche excuse ever. C’mon, you can tell me.”

“Uh, I don’t know. There was this kid I fixed at the hospital, and when I was done, he said I was hot. I mean, I’m sure you get that all the time, but I think it’s the first time anyone’s said that to me. Anyone even moderately respectable, at least.”

Victoria looked like she was on the verge of bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s what’s got you scared?”

“Don’t laugh. Just because I don’t go around town wearing lingerie doesn’t mean I’m not attractive.”

“So that’s it. You feel unloved,” said Victoria. “I’m sure I’ve called you hot before. Or am I not even moderately respectable?”

“No on both counts.”

“You wound me. Fine: you’re hot. There. Feel better now?”

_ Better  _ wasn’t the right word for it. Terrified might be more accurate. She was so close now, sitting next to each other on Amy’s bed. She could smell Victoria, the smell of sweat from a long patrol, somehow inebriating. Dizzy would also be a good word. She wanted to touch her. To lay her head in Victoria’s lap and for Victoria to stroke her tangled hair-- fitting treatment for someone so pathetic. 

It would be so easy. She could hug her sister and she wouldn’t even have to break her “no brains” rule. Just a big shot of testosterone, and Victoria wouldn’t be able to help herself. That was optimistic. More likely, the big libido boost would send her into the arms of that new boyfriend who, Amy was sure, would then be very grateful for the existence of Panacea. 

Still, it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?

“Mm, a hug would help,” Amy said. Victoria smiled and leaned over and wrapped her arms around Amy. It was so easy it scared her. 

“Did you just use your power on me?” Victoria asked.

“What? No. Why?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I feel really, like, energetic all of a sudden.”

“Energetic how?”

“It’s like… I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Anyway, you really do look good, Amy.” Victoria turned to look at her, and there was a wild, almost animalistic look in her eyes. “I mean, how could people not like you? You’ve got everything.” And Victoria put her hand on Amy’s thigh. “Everything in all the right places. I feel like I’ve never noticed before.”

“Uh, thanks,” Amy said. This was a mistake. Something that she’d always wanted, or at least fantasized about, masturbated to. But confronting it up close was a whole different beast.

“Is it weird that I want to kiss you?” Victoria said, staring into Amy’s eyes. 

“Um, a little,” Amy squeaked. She wanted to be kissed. She wanted to run out of the room screaming. 

“Can I?”

“I guess.”

Victoria put her lips on Amy’s, and her body flashed in Amy’s mind like a massive, intricate neon sign. She could see the throbbing of the various cortices in the brain associated with sex-drive, the hardening of her nipples, the rush of blood to her--

Amy pulled away, it was too much.

“Oh, sorry,” Victoria said, sounding a little offended.

“Uh, it’s just my power. It’s my fault, sorry.”

“Right. What did you see?”

“Well, I saw that you were very, uh, aroused.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. It’s got nothing to do with you, though. Haha. No offense.” 

“I bet that boyfriends of yours is going to be happy.”

“Gross, Amy. Plus, he and I are fighting right now.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah, I haven’t been in the mood to do him any favors lately, you know what I mean?”

“I get it.”

“I guess I’ll just masturbate.”

“Woah, too much information.”

“What?” Victoria said. “I thought you were, like, a clinician. You’re supposed to be objective.”

“You’re my  _ sister _ .”

“That didn’t stop you from kissing me.”

“It’s not the same thing. And you kissed me.”

“Fine, avert your eyes then if you’re so prudish.”

“What?”

Victoria began to tug down her tiny white skirt and the skintight shorts beneath it. “What the hell are you doing?” Amy said. 

“I just told you.”

Amy was paralyzed. Victoria finished her disrobing, and Amy could see a small scraggle of light pubic hair. She could see the glistening between her thighs. Victoria lay across Amy’s bed and put a hand between her legs. Amy didn’t dare turn around to look. She stared straight ahead at the wall, and she listened.

A kind of wet noise was soon overtaken by soft moans, and those were in turn overtaken by stifled screams. She could hear the swishing noise of someone writhing on top of bedding, and her body felt hot, a raging fire below her midsection. Was this the outcome she’d wanted? Because, if so, she was terrified. Her sister’s aura, maybe, lashing out because its commander didn’t have the focus to rein it in.

There was a kind of thumping that might’ve been Victoria’s stomach rising up and falling down, then there was quiet. Amy thought of the various chemicals neurotransmitters and hormones released at orgasm. As far as the body was concerned, it was like a bout of intense exercise. Victoria sighed. “Sorry,” she said. “But that needed taking care of.”

“No problem,” Amy said, her voice an octave higher than normal. 

And Victoria left without another word, her skirt and shorts in her hand, and Amy was left there in her tiny room. 


End file.
